


The Agony, dx/dt (The Agony, The Ecstasy)

by bespokenboy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Smut, math pick up lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 13:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1781260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bespokenboy/pseuds/bespokenboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kim Joonmyun's life is an iterative function, one predictable step after another. But when he starts tutoring Kim Jongdae, the calculus teacher begins to learn about some things that can't be expressed in numbers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Agony, dx/dt (The Agony, The Ecstasy)

Imagine the most simple planet in existence, a mere speck of a planet, containing only a single molecule. Imagine this molecule swirling around the planet in a lonely, ceaseless orbit. One would predict for this tiny particle to revolve in one direction, counterclockwise perhaps, for the eternity of its existence. But meteorological data will show, after some period of time, a sudden reversal in direction. And then another- and another! 

Every meteorological molecule in the universe displays this type of chaotic behavior. On a planet the size of Earth, the chaos of a single molecule is multiplied by a million, and another million, infinitely many times. 

It's this measure of chaos that makes it rain on the day of Joonmyun's outdoor wedding. What stirs up a blizzard out of nowhere a year later when he's driving in the middle of the night, with miles to go before reaching home. It's what ushers out the sun from behind the clouds on his wedding anniversary- the day he couldn't quite make it home. 

 

Joonmyun hates unpredictability, which is why he likes math. Specifically, he likes calculus because it allows him to pinpoint the exact moment changes are taking place. But math is only a means of expressing real life, a mere shade of reality. There are many ideas that math cannot express, concepts too complex and unpredictable to be written as numbers and functions. 

Love, for one thing. It baffles Joonmyun how much the input of that function can differ from the output. He tries to formulate an equation in his mind: person + person + x = relationship. He's never quite managed to solve for x. 

There is only one social equation Joonmyun has ever mastered. Joonmyun + life = Joonmyun. It's the one absolute truth that Joonmyun knows, the one axiom that will always stand true. No matter who Joonmyun encounters or what life throws at him, Joonmyun will always be Joonmyun, a solitary speck floating around the endless atmosphere. Perhaps he will marry someday, but more likely he will die as he lived: ultimately alone. But like even the greatest mathematicians, Joonmyun is wrong much more often than he is right. 

 

"You wrote your epsilons backwards."

"Oh?" Jongdae's eyebrows tilt upwards in feigned interest. 

"At least, I'm hoping you just wrote epsilon backwards and you don't really think that everything equals three."

"There's a difference?" Jongdae asks innocently. 

It is only their second session together, but Joonmyun already feels his patience wearing thin. As a high school teacher, he is accustomed to the distracted restlessness of teenagers, but Jongdae is an adult. There is no reason for him to be turning in sloppy assignments, especially when he is paying Joonmyun to teach him calculus. With his high school students, Joonmyun is usually quite forgiving about little details, but there's something about Jongdae that sets him on edge. 

"You're studying to be a teacher, Jongdae," Joonmyun sighs. "You should be accountable for details like this. Precision, accuracy!" He smacks the wooden desk for emphasis, but feels like a fool when he must discreetly rub the sting out of his palm. 

"Please," Jongdae sniffs. "I could tell you the artist and time period of any painting you show me. Don't ever tell an art teacher he doesn't have an eye for detail."

"Hey, you're not an art teacher yet! You still have to pass calculus first. By the way, why did you put off calculus until your last semester? Isn't that a freshman class? You should have taken it while it was still fresh in your mind from high school."

Jongdae only scoffs in response. Joonmyun pulls out a red ballpoint pen to circle mistakes and make corrections on Jongdae's homework. A couple minutes later, the sheet of notebook paper is more red than white. 

"Jesus, Jongdae," Joonmyun groans. "Did you listen to anything I taught you last week? You only had to find limits for Christ's sake. How did you pass high school calculus?"

"I didn't," is the flat response. 

The calculus teacher takes a deep breath, willing himself to stay strong. He's worked with more difficult students before. It should make no difference that this student in particular is nearly his own age and too attractive for his own good. Joonmyun tells himself that it is Jongdae's insolence that makes Joonmyun feel lightheaded when they are alone together. He tries to convince himself that the jitteriness in his fingertips is because of his own impatience, not Jongdae's proximity. 

"I do remember one thing from high school calculus, though. Aren't epsilon-delta limits basically useless?" 

Joonmyun fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course that's the one thing that Jongdae recalls. It's going to be a long semester. 

"It's a basic concept," Joonmyun tries to explain as patiently as possible. "You have to understand the fundamentals of limits before you can learn the more elegant skills of differentiation and integration."

He is surprised to see a spark of comprehension in Jongdae's eye. 

"So it's like getting to know someone," Jongdae begins. "You have to learn the boring things first: their hobbies, their interests..."

Joonmyun nods, pleasantly surprised by the insight, and Jongdae continues, "...and after that, then you can get into their pants." Jongdae flashes Joonmyun a smug smirk, as the teacher chokes out a cough. 

"I think you have a sufficient understanding of limits, how about we move onto Riemann sums for this week?" Joonmyun manages to sputter, and Jongdae laughs, lifting his eyebrows suggestively. 

 

Joonmyun thinks of himself as a sine function, or a cosine function if he's feeling adventurous. He takes comfort in its smooth rise and fall, the steady, predictable vacillation. He knows where his limits are, but he never pushes himself beyond those known points. When he looks at Jongdae, however, he sees a Taylor series, an infinitely expanding sequence of unknown variables and exclamation points. 

Just when Joonmyun thinks that he’s got Jongdae pinned down, the young man will do something that tilts Joonmyun off his axis. The calculus teacher prides himself in being able to read people, students especially. As a teacher, he must adapt himself to his students’ personalities and learning styles. For some students, he must be a gentle guiding hand, spoon feeding them if necessary. Other students need Joonmyun to be a strict disciplinarian at all times to prevent laziness or sloppiness. Jongdae, however, is a trickier equation to solve. It’s like Joonmyun is trying to find the limit of a multidimensional function, but he arrives at a different point from every direction. Every approach yields a different Jongdae. 

It was easy to peg Jongdae as a lazy, arrogant young man who couldn’t quite make it as a freelance artist. That’s what Joonmyun’s first impression of him was, at least. He had only taken him on as a student because Joonmyun couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make an additional 50,000 won a week. It was somehow not a surprise when he found out that Jongdae wasn't paying for the tutoring out of his own pocket. He was attending a cushy, private liberal arts college, after all. But Jongdae is full of surprises, as Joonmyun is only beginning to discover. 

When Jongdae's stomach grumbles again, and then again, Joonmyun decides that it's time to call it quits. But he is taken aback when Jongdae insists on finishing the problem set so that he can fully understand how to use chain rule. 

"I'll pay you extra! Please, I want to do some more examples with composite functions and maybe some inverse trig," he pleads. 

"Are you sure?" Joonmyun asks rather doubtfully. "You seem to have the hang of it already, though... Don't you want to go home and have a nice big dinner?" 

Jongdae admits with a noncommittal laugh, "I'm fine. It's just ramen tonight, anyways. As usual."

Joonmyun can hardly keep the incredulity out of his voice when he exclaims, "Ramen? You can shell out 50k for tutoring every week, but you're living off of ramen?"

"The tutoring money...the college tuition... It's all my parents' money. I let them pay for it because I'm doing it for them. I'm getting an education for their sake, to make them happy. Everything else though, I pay for myself. Even if I'm living off tips and the occasional art commission." Jongdae says this with pride, and Joonmyun feels something tighten in his chest. 

"Come on Jongdae," he says, picking up his satchel, or "man purse" that Jongdae always teases him about. "You're coming to my apartment tonight so I can feed you. I make an amazing stir-fry, so there's no way you can refuse."

It's like their roles have been reversed. Joonmyun is peering down at Jongdae with a smirk playing at his lips, while Jongdae is fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, clearly fighting the blush threatening to spread across his cheeks. Joonmyun scoffs and tugs at Jongdae's upper arm. He lets go in surprise, taken aback by the the unanticipated size and firmness of Jongdae's bicep. 

"Well?" Joonmyun asks expectantly, rocking forward onto the balls of his feet. 

"You're pretty cute for a forty-seven year old man," Jongdae teases. 

Joonmyun squawks, "Twenty-six!" in protest, and Jongdae chuckles, reaching for his backpack. "Sorry. I forgot that you just turned seventy."

It wasn't an exaggeration when Joonmyun claimed to make an amazing stir-fry. He had learned the art long ago, taught by a tall, Chinese friend whom he had fallen out of contact with. Joonmyun wondered if Jongdae had ever experienced heartbreak, if anyone had ever disappeared suddenly from his life, leaving behind only a vague explanation and a crippling sense of doubt. 

But the sight of Jongdae eagerly digging into the aromatic pile of vegetables and strips of beef atop a bed of rice is enough to make Joonmyun forget about his own doubts and insecurities. His watches the boy fondly until Jongdae breaks his mindless gaze. 

"Stop watching me, it's weird." 

"Weirder than your pickup lines?" Joonmyun teases, but his eyes drop back to his own food. 

"Come on, as if 'You and I add up better than a Riemann sum' isn't the most brilliant line you've ever heard," Jongdae retorts. 

"I've heard better," Joonmyun replies nonchalantly. He thinks for a second before countering, "I wish I could be your derivative so I could lie tangent to your curves."

They both freeze for a moment, as the underlying sexual subtext between them is suddenly made, well, text. Joonmyun's mind fumbles to come up with a lame apology for overstepping some implicit boundary, but Jongdae breaks the silence first. 

"Don't objectify me," he sniffs, folding his arms across his chest with a pout. Then Jongdae cracks into a smile, and they both burst out laughing. 

 

Their relationship continues as an exchange of services. Jongdae pays Joonmyun with his parents' money, and Joonmyun helps him with calculus. Joonmyun cooks for Jongdae after their lessons, and Jongdae repays him back with his company. The smiles, the jokes, the laughter they share make cooking an extra meal each week well worth the effort. Despite how much Jongdae seems to savor his cooking, Joonmyun can't help but feel like Joonmyun is getting the better end of their second deal. 

The semester passes by all too quickly, as they are wrapping up the last session before Jongdae's final. Throughout their weeks together, Joonmyun and Jongdae have forged a bridge between their two worlds. As Jongdae is completing his review problems, Joonmyun's mind wanders back to one of their first lessons, when they had first begun to draw the connections between math and art. 

Jongdae had been complaining about the tediousness of differentiation using the limit definition. Joonmyun himself did not enjoy the mindless, brute force approach to problem solving, but it was a basic technique necessary for learning more efficient ones later on. 

"It's quite simple, really," Joonmyun had insisted. "You just have to set up the limit and do a little bit of algebra."

"Setting things up takes so long though! Especially with the more complicated problems," Jongdae had complained. "Power rule is so much easier."

"But you need to be able to use the limit definition first, before you can use shortcuts like the power rule. You have to see everything that's going on, have a method of organizing your thoughts on paper before skipping to directly solving the problem. Isn't it the same with art? Don't you sketch everything out beforehand? How do you organize your thoughts and ideas before beginning a new piece?"

"I don't."

"Surely you must some kind of method or approach to creating artwork."

Jongdae had smiled wryly. "I use the hope and pray method."

It was moments early on like those when Joonmyun had prayed for the semester to go by quickly. His prayers are answered when Joonmyun is brought back suddenly to the present at the sight of Jongdae reluctantly shuffling his papers. 

"I guess this is it, then," Jongdae announces, with a half-hearted tilt of his lips. He reaches out to shake Joonmyun's hand. Jongdae's warm, slender fingers feel comfortable between his own, and Joonmyun must remind himself to let go. 

"You don't need to cook for me tonight, Joonmyun. I should go home early, get lots of rest before my exam tomorrow morning. Thank you, for everything that you've done, really."

Jongdae flashes a bright grin, and Joonmyun watches as he gathers up his belongings. He is almost out the classroom door when Joonmyun finds his voice again. 

"Wait! Jongdae!"

Jongdae turns around, and Joonmyun's stomach flips when he sees the undisguised hope in his eyes. "Call me, okay? I mean- I want to know how you do on your exam. Or you can call if you want food or something, or anything, really..." he trails off at the end. 

"Of course, Joonmyun." He tosses one last carefree smile over his shoulder and slips out the door. 

 

Maybe Joonmyun had been foolish for harboring the optimistic thought that Jongdae would reach out to his old tutor again. Several weeks have passed by, and Joonmyun knows for a fact that exam results had been released and that graduation ceremonies are underway, not that any of those things matter to Joonmyun. He just likes to have some sense of closure. 

He's the type who never leaves any unknown variables in his answers if he can't help it. Joonmyun tries to keep the bitterness out of his mind when he absently wonders why Jongdae hadn't even thought to at least tell Joonmyun his final grade. But Joonmyun understands. Jongdae is young, has better things to do than try and keep up with his calculus tutor, especially since he is now embarking on a much more exciting chapter of his life. 

Joonmyun likes to read, but he doesn't like books. It's one chapter after another, and then, all too soon, it's the end. He needs closure, but closure is rarely enough to soothe the pain of endings. 

Passing by the grocery store pharmacy, Joonmyun is blessed with the opportunity for a sequel. 

"Kim Jongdae?" the technician calls out. 

Joonmyun looks around, but Jongdae is nowhere to be seen. Knowing how tedious it is to wait in line all over again to pick up a prescription, Joonmyun steps forward to accept the paper package. He can't help but glance at the prescription even though he knows that he shouldn't, and his heart drops. 

"Joonmyun?" 

He looks up, flustered, and smiles tightly at the familiar face. 

"Hey, Jongdae. Long time no see, huh? They called out your name, and I claimed it for you so that you wouldn't-"

Jongdae's eyes widen, and he snatches the prescription from Joonmyun's hands. "I was in the bathroom, thanks," he mutters and starts to hurry away. 

Joonmyun quickly paces after him and tries to grab his arm. "Is there anything you want to talk to me about? I'm here for you, you know. You can talk to me about anything. I- I want to be your friend."

But Jongdae wrenches himself free from his grip. "There's nothing you can do. And how would you know anything anyways." His words are flat, but they pierce straight through Joonmyun's heart. 

"Jongdae, trust me. I've been there myself. I know what it's like to be depressed, I've been on that same medication-"

“So what?!” Jongdae snaps. His eyes are wild, and Joonmyun takes a step back. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m a failure! I’ve failed my parents, I’ve failed you, I-” His words are broken by a dry sob that makes his entire body shudder.

Joonmyun reaches out to wrap his arms around Jongdae, who thankfully does not wrestle him away. “Shh, Jongdae, it’s okay. Come back to my apartment and I’ll make you soup, okay? You’re in no state to be by yourself.” He murmurs soothingly and feels Jongdae’s nod. 

“But it’s summer, hyung...it’s too hot for soup...”

“It’s never too hot for soup.” Joonmyun laughs weakly and wraps his fingers around Jongdae’s wrist, guiding him to his car. 

 

“How did you do it, hyung? How did you come out of your dark place?” Jongdae’s hands clutch a warm, ceramic bowl of steaming soup. Joonmyun was right, it really did make him feel better. 

“I was on medication for awhile, but I realized the most important thing was for me to pull myself out. I just needed to keep a healthy perspective on things, give myself a reality check once in awhile. It was difficult, especially since I lost someone that I really loved. I mean, he didn’t die or anything, he...left me. I’ve healed since then, but...I don’t know. I don’t really think I’ve been the same. What about you, Jongdae? Do you want to talk about what you’re going through?”

Jongdae swirls his spoon around in his soup, staring down at his cloudy reflection. “You probably don’t want to hear about the whiny, boring details of my life…”

“Hey, look at me, Jongdae,” Joonmyun says gently. “You said it yourself once. If you want to get to know someone, you have to learn all the boring details first. Then you can move onto the more important stuff.”

“Um, I distinctly remember that when I said that, I was talking about getting into someone’s pants.” Jongdae flashes him a cheeky grin. “Are you trying to say something, hyung?”

Flushed and flustered, Joonmyun bravely plows on. “You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do.” 

Joonmyun is relieved to see Jongdae’s eyes regain their mischievous glimmer. They chat late into the night once Jongdae has calmed down. Apparently he has been suffering anxiety attacks over the past couple months. But after failing his final, Jongdae sank into the lowest depths of hopelessness and was desperate for a way out. Joonmyun is surprised since Jongdae always appears so collected, happy even, when they are together. Jongdae grudgingly admits that for some reason, Joonmyun always manages to calm him down just with his presence alone.

“Don’t let that get to your head, though,” Jongdae warns, mentally chiding himself for being so obvious.

Joonmyun just smiles, his eyes crinkling into heart-warming crescents. “We can start all over again. I’ll teach you everything from the beginning, if you want me to. We don’t have to meet up in that dusty old classroom anymore if you want... We can go somewhere nice, like a cafe or something. And you don’t have to pay me, I want to help you...as...as a friend.”

“Are you asking me to date you, hyung?” Jongdae tilts his head teasingly.

“No! Of course not! I-I’m asking you to date math,” Joonmyun stutters. “And me, too, if you want, I guess...”

Jongdae laughs, a bright, pleasant sound. “Of course I’d like to date you, hyung.” He wrinkles his nose. “As long as not all our dates are math-related.”

He leans over to kiss Joonmyun on the tip of his nose, and Joonmyun feels like he could defy the laws of gravity. 

 

With Joonmyun to guide him out of the darkness, Jongdae's tempestuous midnights turn into quiet, sunny afternoons. And as promised, Joonmyun takes Jongdae on far more math-free dates than math-related ones. But because of Joonmyun’s limited dating experience, he soon runs out of ideas for dates besides movies and mini golf. Jongdae is happy to supply him with suggestions, although Joonmyun is never quite sold on skydiving. 

This time around, with a better understanding of the basics, Jongdae has a far greater appreciation for the elegance of problem-solving. 

“It’s like the different styles of art,” he muses. “There are generic, utilitarian approaches, the kind that are dull and tedious, but usually work every time. Yet with a bit of creativity, you can solve a single problem infinitely many ways. The hard part is finding out the cleanest, simplest approach.”

“That part,” Joonmyun agrees, “is an art.”

Jongdae aces his calculus final this time around. They celebrate with chicken and beer at midnight, because Joonmyun prefers date nights in, and they could both use a bit of a buzz.

“Why did you teach me Weierstrass substitutions?” Jongdae accuses jokingly. “No offense to Karl, but Weierstrass substitutions were the worst, and it wasn’t even on the final!”

Joonmyun lifts his hands in surrender. “Don’t blame me,” he hiccups. “Besides, don’t you feel all the more enlightened?”

“Not really.”

Joonmyun reaches over to ruffle his boyfriend’s hair. “I think it’s time for us to go to bed.”

“But I’m all done with my finals! I can stay up however late I want!” he complains, but follows along anyways when Joonmyun leads him by the wrist to their bedroom. 

"Who says we're going to be sleeping tonight?" Joonmyun laughs. 

Their night together is the first in a series of lessons, but this time Jongdae is the teacher and Joonmyun is the student. Each night after that is another lesson on Jongdae, but Joonmyun doesn’t think he will ever learn enough, even by the time they’ve been together for over four years and they're both wearing rings with their initials engraved in the gold. 

Math and art harmonize in the golden ratio lines of Jongdae’s body. His broad shoulders and narrow waist form an enviable perfect triangle, and Joonmyun takes pleasure in mapping out the dips and curves of his toned abs. Aside from Jongdae’s geometric perfection, what Joonmyun cherishes most of all are the little imperfections that he alone has knowledge of: the birthmarks, the freckles, each a tiny lesson Joonmyun has learned through their intimacy. 

Joonmyun learns other things, as well. That Jongdae likes to be kissed until he’s breathless. That he moans so sweetly when Joonmyun nibbles at his bottom lip or his earlobe. Joonmyun memorizes the volume of the dip of Jongdae’s collarbone as he drags his tongue across it. He flicks Jongdae’s right nipple, and then his left with his tongue, because he’s learned that it makes Jongdae squirm before they’ve even really started touching. Jongdae whines impatiently while Joonmyun takes his time warming up the lube between his palms, but Joonmyun doesn’t mind being a tease especially since Jongdae gets his way the majority of the time anyways. 

It still takes Joonmyun’s breath away when he feels Jongdae’s hot, tight walls clench around him. Jongdae wails this time in impatience, but Joonmyun thrusts in deep and slow so that he doesn’t hurt his husband. Jongdae bites at his shoulder and starts to rut up against him, making Joonmyun give a low chuckle. 

“You asked for it,” he mutters darkly, and begins to quicken his pace, hips snapping viciously. The abrupt increase in intensity causes Jongdae to cry out, but the line between agony and ecstasy had been blurred long ago. 

Jongdae’s unpredictability should be predictable by now, but Joonmyun is still caught by surprise when Jongdae grabs him by the waist to flip them over so that Jongdae is riding Joonmyun’s lap. Joonmyun slows down in surprise, but Jongdae has a tight grip on his shoulders and slams down relentlessly onto him. The sudden ferocity has Joonmyun coming within seconds before he even realizes what is happening. 

“That wasn’t fair,” he pants heavily into Jongdae’s hair. 

“What isn’t fair is that I’m still hard right now,” Jongdae growls back. 

Joonmyun gingerly lifts Jongdae from his lap, but then pushes him back onto the bed because he’s also learned that Jongdae likes being manhandled once in awhile. It’s also a bit of retaliation, Joonmyun supposes. He descends on Jongdae, enjoying how his squirming turns into absolute writhing when Joonmyun takes his husband’s length between his lips. If there’s one thing Joonmyun is proud of, it’s his ability to make Jongdae come undone with just the right swirl of his tongue and flick of his wrist. He hollows his cheeks, and that’s what tips Jongdae over the edge as he comes with a dirty moan straight down Joonmyun’s throat. 

They lay in bed together, a tangle of flushed skin and limbs. Joonmyun watches as Jongdae begins to doze off, and every rise and fall of his husband’s chest is another lesson on Jongdae.

 

Because of Jongdae, Joonmyun has come to appreciate chaos. Jongdae’s spontaneity, his endless supply of witticisms, the tender moments that always take Joonmyun by surprise- Joonmyun is in love with the chaotic, unpredictable entity known as Kim Jongdae. But chaos, as Joonmyun has always been all too aware of, can also be dangerous. 

October is a safe, predictable month. It is after the harsh dog days of summer have faded, but before the biting chill of winter has a chance to settle in. For this reason, Joonmyun and Jongdae had chosen to get married in October. But by “sheer stochasticity” (as Joonmyun had put it) or “bad luck” (as Jongdae had phrased it), there was a heavy, unforeseen downpour the afternoon of their wedding, which had taken place in a meadow with only a pavilion for shelter. But still, the ceremony had gone on, and they exchanged their vows, shivering under large, black umbrellas. That night, the warmth of their hotel bed felt all the more satisfying after they peeled their soaking wet tuxedos off of each other with trembling fingers. 

But a year later, it is October again, the night before their first anniversary. Joonmyun teaches in one city, while Jongdae teaches in another, so Joonmyun must make the commute at the end of every week to spend the weekend with his husband. He can’t always make it home with his increased workload as the head of his high school’s math department, but this weekend is special. He is determined to make it home for their one year anniversary, even if he has to brave the highway at night. There is a 10% chance of snow, but it’s also the middle of October, so it’s a risk Joonmyun is willing to take. 

There’s Jongdae’s thrilling kind of chaos, and then there’s the malicious kind of chaos that conjures up a full-blown blizzard out of nowhere that obscures Joonmyun’s vision when he is driving on the highway in the middle of night. 

Heart pounding in his throat as he swerves away from oncoming traffic, Joonmyun can’t help but allow the equations to flood back into his mind. He calculates the coefficient of friction of his car’s rubber tires compared to the black asphalt beneath it. He thinks about the distance between his car’s current position and their apartment, where his husband will wait anxiously all night for Joonmyun to come home. When Joonmyun hits an icy patch in the road and loses control of his vehicle, he is still calculating the acceleration of his own car as it skids towards the oncoming SUV. But moments before bumper meets bumper, the numbers dissipate from his mind, and thoughts of a different kind materialize in their place. 

Joonmyun thinks about Jongdae’s smile and how it provides him with cozy warmth in the winter and invigorating refreshment in the summer. Jongdae’s laugh can melt the harsh winter snow and persuade the spring flowers to bloom. And autumn- the first and the last season Joonmyun spent with Jongdae. Jongdae is the warm vibrancy of autumn leaves, the carefree wind that creates swirls of color in the air. 

Jongdae is spring, summer, winter, autumn. All the seasons are Jongdae. 

But Joonmyun’s last thought right before the crumpling of metal and the shattering of glass is of his favorite equation of all, the one that took him his entire life to formulate. And just so that he would never forget, he had carved the equation into the trunk of their favorite tree, the night before their wedding under the twinkling stars. 

Joonmyun + Jongdae = ♥

 

The next day is a sunny one, all traces of the freak winter storm having melted overnight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Apologies for all the nerdy metaphors.


End file.
